


Like it could be love

by winter_angst



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Crushes, Falling In Love, Fluff and Smut, Hook-Up, Love at First Sight, M/M, MyFreeCams, Requited Love, Secret Identity, Slight obsessive behavior, Streaming Sites, Webcam/Video Chat Sex, Webcams
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-16 01:49:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28574046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winter_angst/pseuds/winter_angst
Summary: Jack has been in love with BigBoyBlue69 for years.
Relationships: Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov, Jack Rollins/Brock Rumlow, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 5
Kudos: 19





	Like it could be love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kalika999 (kalika_999)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kalika_999/gifts).



> A late Christmas present to the lovely Kali who I love more than words can express. I really hope you like it. 
> 
> Title from Cowboy Like Me by Taylor Swift

Fridays always felt monotonous to Jack. He didn’t care about his classes, couldn’t be bothered with homework, and was barely present for his friends. He was just counting down the hours to nine when he could lock his door, turn off the lights, flick on the LEDs, grab some Aveeno lotion and set a box of tissues within reach. BigBoyBlue69 was the object of his fixation; a camboy with beautiful olive skin, a jawline sharp enough to cut glass and beautiful caramel eyes. He was slim and toned, muscular but not too bulky with a proud quiff of hair that was his signature. Just seeing similar hairstyles sent his heart thumping and he thought about Blue. Sometimes Jack felt creepy, like he cared too much about a stranger, but he couldn’t help it. He was powerless against him, those eyes were hypnotic and when he gazed into the camera he was looking into Jack’s eyes. It was intimate. Their chat was another layer of intimacy that made it all the more real. And it was real; Jack didn’t always talk about sex and he didn’t always make sexual suggestions. He didn’t tip for the show, he tipped for Blue -- to show he cared, because he did. He cared a lot about him. Jack shared his life openly with Blue and Blue did the same, telling him about his noisy neighbors, about his fish Gills, and how busy he was with school. 

Jack’s infatuation with him had spurred him to get a third job so he could increase his tips. He didn’t care to calculate the amount of money he’d spent on tokens but regardless it was worth it. He was supporting someone he cared deeply for and that was worth every hour at McDonalds, Walmart and his work study. His multiple jobs confused his friends, especially when he declined going out to meals under the guise he couldn’t afford it. Even though his friends knew it was a lie they never pushed which was good because Jack didn’t like to lie to them and he didn’t think they would understand his online relationship with Blue. They would have found faults in it, encouraged him to stop hemorrhaging money on someone he didn’t know. But Jack did know Blue; they just wouldn’t understand. 

BigBoyBlue69 streamed on Friday nights at 8PM sharp and it never could come soon enough. And when the stream ended Jack was back to counting down until the next Friday night when he'd get to see him again. Maybe it was a bit obsessive but Blue had lodged himself into his life permanently. It was unplanned, a stray click on PornHub led to MyFreeCams and he was immediately enamored by the rawness of cam streams. There was no editing, no faking it. When the cam boy orgasmed he was really cumming and he was sharing that intimate moment with Jack. He could think about Blue for hours, and on Fridays he did. He couldn’t wait to message him, to shower him with tips. He always felt like he didn’t give enough, that he wasn’t properly conveying how much he loved his performances -- loved Blue. It was love, Jack had fallen for Blue on his third stream when Jack bought became a premium member and messaged Blue directly. He hadn’t even expected a reply -- and if he did get one he thought the reply would be generic. 

It wasn’t and becoming a premium member was the best $19.99 he’d ever spent the moment Blue messaged him back. When he requested his first private shows he kept it straightly sexual, unsure of what Blue would think of him if he didn’t. A few times Blue was already in a private show and he had to Spy. He couldn’t communicate with Blue but he could watch and watching was good enough. The only times he suffered was when Blue had a TruePrivate show and Jack was left stranded. TruePrivate was attractive however -- when it was Jack that is. It cost 80 tokens a minute but they were tokens well spent. He could ask more of Blue than what kind of a dildo or vibrator he should use. He hedged into more personal questions like how his day was, personal questions that weren’t too personal in fear of scaring him off. The more TruePrivates they shared the more bold Jack got and the more open Blue was. He told him that he was in college, just like Jack, and shared that caming was one of the best moves he’d made. ‘Because of loyal viewers like you’ he’d said and Jack held that close to his heart. The heart that now belonged to Blue. He felt bad to bogard Blue to himself so he didn’t always TruePrivate or Private right away. He would tip in general chat and give others a chance to do the same. He wanted Blue to be as successful as possible. 

By this point Blue had Jack’s heart in his hands, whether he knew it or not was irrelevant. 

“Jack, are you coming?” Clint asked, shouldering his bag and standing up.

Jack looked up at his friends, a ragtag group that he’d met in his first year at USC. It was made up of a goofy blond haired man, Clint, who lived off coffee and was looking for a business degree, a red haired woman, Natasha, seeking a degree in Psychology, a much larger blond man , Steve, majoring in arts degree, and his boyfriend, Bucky, a brunette after a science and arts degree. Jack didn’t mind being the only single one in the group but at times he was reminded he was a fifth wheel. Since discovering Blue he didn’t feel single anymore. Not when he was so deeply, irrevocably in love with him. Surely Blue felt something as well, their chats warm and personal. They cared for each other, Jack was certain of that. Even if they never met in person it was still a relationship. 

“Yeah.” 

It was Friday and it was hard to focus on anything except Blue on Fridays. If his friends noticed how absent minded he was every Friday they didn’t comment on it. He was keyed up in excitement about seeing Blue. He wanted to hear his voice, smooth with a hint of a Brooklyn accent. It had taken a few weeks to pinpoint it, hours on Youtube listening to various regional accents before he nailed it down. Jack had never been to New York City but he would go to meet Blue, should the chance ever arise. He hoped it would; there was nothing more he wanted than to touch Blue, to feel his skin, hear his voice in person, to know what it felt like to kiss his pouty lips and run his fingers through his hair. 

Jack followed his friend to the bussing window. He had hardly touched his turkey sandwich, too busy fantasizing about the approaching evening. It was worth working three jobs to be able to afford Blue’s time, to support Blue like a good partner would. McDonalds, Walmart and his work study in the library was tough but worth it every paycheck he got. He slotted his school work in between his hours, balancing his time carefully so he could enjoy his Friday nights. He didn’t care for the parties he missed at sororities and fraternities. He wasn’t a partier and the idea of flirting with another person felt like cheating and he had no desire to do so. Blue was plenty for him -- more than plenty. He was everything. 

Jack could hardly focus in Calculus too busy imagining what the night would bring. He wasn’t quite bold enough to hit StartMyWebcam but he hoped to work up to it; he wanted Blue to see the face of the man who loved him but he was too insecure to do so confidently. Not since the accident that left him scarred. Blue deserved perfection and Jack wasn’t. So he abstained from it for the moment. The right time would come, Jack was certain of that. 

The day wrapped up and Jack went to have dinner with his friends. Clint was buzzing about a party taking place and, as usual, extended an invitation to Jack who declined. He attended parties on Saturdays if he wasn’t working graveyard at McDonalds; socializing outside of Blue felt a bit tiresome however. He couldn’t match the kind of chemistry that shared with anyone else. People tried to flirt, men and women alike, and Jack had no interest in them. It was six thirty when he finally made it back to his dorm. His breathing came fast and heavy in anticipation and he tidied up his room to soak up some time before he sat down and tired to get some work done. Honestly he needed to use as much time as possible to keep up with the sheer onslaught of work. He had coding to do as well but he put that off for Saturday. 

He situated himself in front of his laptop at 7:30 to assure he had plenty of time to connect so he would be the first one in the chat room. He couldn’t wait to say hello to Blue, to catch up on the week they’d been apart. When the chatroom opened Jack hurried to write a hello but was beaten by HungDaddy23 which soured his mood a bit. Blue was quick to respond to HungDaddy which hardly felt fair but he didn’t want to make a Thing of it. He replied to Jack next but he included a smiley face emoji which soothed any upset. Others joined the group chat and the webcam opened exposing Blue. He was kneeling on his bed wearing a pair of orange lace panties that complimented in his skin tone. The ridges of his abdomen were exposed and Jack wondered what it would be like to run his fingers and tongue over his abs.

He eased off his jeans, snagging a bottle of Aveeno and a box of tissues. He tipped 200 tokens to start with -- which equalled a measly $10.00 but it always initiated others doing the same. He wanted to give Blue the chance to get as many tips as possible before he requested a TruePrivate for an hour so they could catch up. Afterwards he’d go normal Private so allow others to Spy so Blue got more revenue. One the screen Blue was massaging cock through the lace which left little to the imagination -- the perfect way to pull in new viewers. Jack would never stop being impressed by how smart Blue was. 

BigBoyBlue69: wb Jack

Mathlete99: hello

Jack’s fingers trembled as he typed. There was so much he wanted to say but he had to wait until he was in his hour of having Blue’s sole attention. 

Blue moved to a desk chair to answer chats and Jack got the chance to admire his beautiful, perfect face close up. And it was perfect, it was everything. Blue was everything. He had missed him more than he ever thought he could; it seemed to double every week leaving Jack aching to see Blue. But he was seeing him now, replying to various other regulars who tipped between 100 - 500 tokens at a time. Jack quickly trumped the 500. It was his mission to always be listed at the top tipper. He needed his name there to remind Blue how devoted he was. Jack needed to stand out as Blue’s number one fan because he was. 

Blue collected a good following, just over five hundred people watching the opening of the show. Blue didn’t allow guests to chat so it was only the usual people checking in, tipping and making polite requests that Blue followed because Blue was giving in that way. Too giving, Jack thought sometimes. He didn’t want Blue to give out too much for free, not when this was his work and deserved to be paid for the work he put in. On the screen Blue adjusted his hard cock in the panties so the tip peeked up over the edge, it’s head shiny and a red with fluid collected on the tip. Jack had never been more grateful for HD than he was when Blue showed off his perfect body. It was like he was there, seeing it with his own two eyes. Jack was momentarily distraught when the camera cut off with a prompt to Spy came up. Frustrated Jack hit the option to spy. He should have been faster. The regret was short lived once he saw Brock walking back towards the best, the panties cupping his muscular ass. He rummaged around his toy drawer before he withdrew a purple dildo, about as thick as his wrist but long and curved. Jack licked his lips and leaned in, hand falling down to squeeze his cock which had twitched in interest as Jack watched the long lines of his body as he laid on the bed, propped up on the pillow. 

Blue played with cock a bit, tipping his head back with a lusty groan exposing his throat. Jack thought about kissing it, about feeling his hot skin under his lips as he took Blue’s cock in his hands. When he closed his eyes he could see it, he could almost feel it. He let the guttural sounds Blue released wash over him like waves, fueling his rapidly hardening cock. He swept his thumb over it’s head and shivered at the sensitive pleasure that shot up his spine. The urge to rush this, to spill in his fist was there but Jack exercised careful control when it came to his Friday nights. He would last until the end. 

He released his cock and opened his eyes to the stunning sight of Blue working the toy into his tight hole. He released pleasured groans as he inched the toy inside him, hooded eyes gazing into the camera -- gazing into Jack’s eyes. He reached out to touch the screen, trailing his finger along his face. He hoped that one day he would touch his face for real, to feel that soft supple flesh under his fingers. Fluid drooled from the tip of his cock as he imagined what he must smell like. Something soft, a bit sweet with a hint of musk at the end. Subtle and graceful like the way he moved. The flow of his movements simply added a layer to Jack’s admiration. Blue was perfection incarnate and he hoped that he knew that. 

The dildo was vanishing into his body as Blue practically purred on the bed, hand bunching up on the blue comforter beneath him. Jack thought about laying in that bed with him, about holding him and hearing his heartbeat before he made love with him. Slowly with soft quick paced gasps as they clung to each other, desperate to be as close as possible. Jack could picture it, being buried to the hilt inside of him, wanting more, needing more. The Private show was only thirty minutes but Blue came for the watcher. Back arching into a perfect curve as strings of cum spurted against his chest. He removed the dildo and laid back on the bed with a sated smile on his face, eyes hooded. Jack nearly came, the image was so perfect. He wanted to be there when Blue came, he wanted to be the one responsible for that expression. Jack swallowed dryly, leaning in towards the screen giving his cock another squeeze. The second it over Jack hastened to the TruePrivate and happily said goodbye to 4,800 credits for an hour of Blue’s time. 

BigBoyBlue69: hey there Jack

Jack smiled. In the beginning Blue called him “math” but seeing his own name, knowing that Blue had typed it with his own fingers, was far more satisfying. It made him feel closer to Blue. 

Mathelete99: how are you today?

“Pretty good. I saw you Spying on the Private. Up to par?” Blue asked, sitting in the desk chair to give Jack his full attention.

Jack smiled with a quiet laugh. Blue always checked in with him on his performance. He cared about his opinion. 

Mathlete99: you’re always perfect

Blue smiled. That heart stopping smile that Jack had dreams about. “That’s very sweet of you to say. How was your week?”

They conversed for the entire hour, Blue telling Jack about how his week had gone. He, like Jack, was in college and complained about term papers he had to work on. He shared he’d bought new sneakers -- thanking Jack for all his tips -- and about his late dinner plans for the night. He was intending on ordering Chick-fil-A and watching Fast & Furious 8. Jack wasn’t one for action movies but he’d watch them all for Blue. He quickly noted down the title so he could watch and discuss it with him next week. Jack shared about a party he’d gone to last Saturday, at his friend’s insistence, and Brock said he too had gone to a party much like his own with kegs at a local fraternity. Jack was reminded of how much they had in common, how perfect they would be together. The hour flew by, as it always did, Jack typing, Blue talking. His voice was like honey, running over him with soft caresses. When the hour ran up Blue went back to the public and Jack tipped an additional 1,500 tokens to ensure his name stayed at the top and Blue saw how devoted he really was. 

As it approached midnight Jack’s mood steadily declined. He Spied on a Private show, watching Blue run a thin black vibrator up and down the length of his cock. Blue shuddered at the vibrations and Jack knew that this was the right time to cum. He’d been achingly hard for the past four hours and his balls were full and heavy, cock sensitive to the touch. So sensitive, in fact, he had to be careful not to cum too soon. Blue fingered himself with his free hand, eyes fluttering shut as he gave himself completely into the show he was putting on. Jack flicked his tongue over his lips, imagining what it’d be like to swallow down Blue’s cock and replace his fingers with his own, teasing him, opening him so he could line up behind him, pressing the head of his cock against his laxed hole and -- 

Jack grunted as he came, hard and heavy. His head spun and his ears felt stuffed with cotton as his balls drew up against his body. He jerked himself off through the orgasm, wrenching his eyes open so he could watch Blue who came shortly after he did. It was like they were sharing the moment, like Jack was there with him, just the two of them, finally orgasming after ages of foreplay. Jack panted heavily as he watched Blue finish with a loud, satisfied moan before he thanked the viewer who’d paid for the Private show and went public to say his goodbyes. Blue was alway so polite. He never rushed off, always thanking the viewers and Jack specifically for being the top tipper (“Again,” Blue added with a coy smile that was meant for Jack and Jack alone.). 

When Blue signed off the giddiness Jack always felt around him faded a bit, an immediate drop in mood now that he knew that he’d have to wait seven more days before he’d see Blue again. He grabbed a tissue and wiped up his mess, pitching the spent tissue into the trash bin. It was midnight and the darkness outside pressed against his dorm window. Jack took a moment to sprawl back in his chair, closing his eyes and picturing Blue’s smile as he thanked him, the look on his face as he came, his voice as he inquired about Jack’s life. Blue cared -- he did, Jack was sure about it. He wasn’t just one of his viewers like the others; what they shared was special. 

When the glow faded and the depression parted enough for rational thought he got to his feet, kicking free of his jeans before he went to the wardrobe to fetch a fresh tee shirt and boxers to sleep in. He settled on one of the thousand USC tees he had, flicked off the light and crawled into his bed. He stared up in the darkness and wondered what Blue was doing. Probably tidying up after the show, maybe he was taking a shower to wash the lube from his skin before it got too sticky. Jack imagined Blue in the shower, droplets of water running along his skin, suds running down his chest, over his abs and onto his soft cock. He’d yet to see Blue with a soft cock but he imagined it to be just as perfect flaccid as it did erect. 

And with that in mind he was lulled to sleep cradled in the image of Blue. 

** ** ** **

Jack met up with Clint for breakfast. Clint loaded his plate with bacon and hash browns while Jack stuck to oatmeal and fruit as he usually did. He was still partially lost in last night, lost in picturing Blue’s smile. Clint filled him in on the party, about a girl who had taken off her top and danced on the counter in the kitchen. He was quick to add that he certainly wasn’t looking (no doubt because Natasha would kill him). 

“You’re coming to the Gamma Pi Delta tonight right?” 

“Yes.” Parties could be a good distraction from the long week he had ahead of him. “Are you coming to my shift at the library?” 

“Definitely. Think you can help me with my 107?” 

“Sure.” 

Jack had always had a head for numbers, hence his username, so his friends sought him out for math help. He didn’t mind, he liked to help. In some regards Jack didn’t really fit in with his friends. They were more outgoing than he was; they were never afraid of what people thought of them while Jack was chronically self conscious. He had a feeling that Blue would be like his friends. He didn’t feel the need to hide among the mass; he would be confident, carrying a sense of certainty in every regard. In that way he was different from Jack but that didn’t mean that they wouldn’t work out. Jack would be more confident himself if he had someone like Blue on his arm. He would have to be. 

Clint inhaled his plate at record time, Bucky joining them with a bagel and orange juice. Natasha appeared just before they left. She had a class Saturday afternoons so she had her things with her. Usually she spent that time in the library getting work done, just as Bucky did. Steve had a class in the mornings and he’d find his way in towards the middle of Jack’s shift. Together they trooped to the library where Maria gathered her books and left with a cheery wave. Jack settled down on the opposite side of the desk. It was the ideal shift to work, very rarely were people there on a Saturday morning. Most were enjoying their freedom from classes and or nursing hangovers from a night they had gone too hard on. Friday night parties were considered a pre-game to most, Jack’s friends included. They would enjoy the music, a few drinks and the show the drunk frat boys put on with a buzz. Tonight they would join into the festivities, drinking much heavier than they did the night before. 

Jack would nurse a beer or two. Getting blackout drunk lost its appeal the first time it happened and Jack found out how unpleasant of an experience it was. What others saw in it he had no idea. Jack didn’t think that Blue would be interested in getting black out drunk either, he was too… Jack couldn’t put a finger on the word he was looking for but he just knew. When it came to Blue he just knew certain things. Helping Clint took up a good portion of his shift and only person needed to check out a book. When his replacement appeared he headed to Clint’s dorm to watch him play Call of Duty. It was a mess, as it usually was, and Jack sat on his bed, using his knees as a desk to work on his own homework until he had to head out for his shift at McDonalds. The shift there dragged but every second was precious because it meant more money and more money meant being able to provide tokens for Blue. 

** ** ** ** 

Gamma Pi Delta was pulsing with music and activity. It was a double story house, flanked on either side by sororities. They alternated Saturdays but it was a well known party strip. It wasn’t a party unless the cops got called and they cleared out the house. Usually Jack and his friends were gone by that point but he’d gotten caught up in the crowd spilling out onto the street at a trooper’s demand more times than once. The DJ was playing a mashup of Summertime Sadness and Hot Girl Bummer. There was a ten dollar coverage fee per person and the paid in single file order before entering the house and fanning out. Bucky and Clint went straight for the keg while Jack wandered towards the kitchen where they kept the hard liquors and a few bottles of wine that the sororities always provided. 

He was splashing a few fingers of Fireball into his red SOLO cup when he bumped into someone. He turned quickly to apologize. “Sorry,” the guy said. 

The man was a bit shorter than Jack, with brown hair and a pair of black rimmed glasses. They didn’t seem to fit the rest of his build, bulky with muscle and a strong jawline. 

He was pouring himself Rose. “My fault.” His accent reminded him of Blue. 

“I’m Brock.” the guy offered his free hand and Jack latched on. 

“Jack.” 

“Fireball, huh?” Brock said peering over his shoulder. 

“Wine, huh?” Jack shot back good humoredly. 

“Always wine,” Brock replied. “Well, unless I’m recovering from a breakup.” 

“I take it you’re not?” 

“Nope. Men are stupid -- me included. Better off single. For this semester at least.” Brock took a sip of his wine. “What about you? Is Fireball your recovery beverage of choice?” 

“I’ve always been a whiskey fan.”

Brock looked him up and down openly. “I can see that.” 

Color crept up Jack’s cheek along with guilt. What would Blue think if he saw him talking to the bespectacled man? It wasn’t like it was an inappropriate conversation; it was friendly, tame, he was most likely reading too much into Brock’s body language. With his frayed nerves smoothed over he was able to smile easily. Brock finished pouring his Pink Moscato and set the bottle aside, turning to face him. He brought the SOLO cup to his lips and took a sip, looking at Jack with a roaming gaze that made Jack feel a bit guilty. It was easier to converse online, replies could be edited and thought out in a way that real conversation didn’t allow. There was something inherently appealing about the man; something haunting familiar. In a way he reminded him of Blue but that wasn’t anything new. Jack saw bits of Blue in every attractive man he happened across, whether it was his hair style, his jawline, his warm honey eyes. This man was no different; his hair wasn’t nearly as proud as Blue’s but it was still quiffed upwards. He had good bone structure and was very easy to look at. 

Jack took a drink of his whiskey and tried to think of something to say. He didn’t have to suffer long because Brock saw the lull in conversation and picked it up easily. “Are you here alone?” 

“I came with a few friends.” 

“I mean other than friends,” Brock said with a playful eyeroll. 

“Oh,” Jack felt foolish for not realizing what this line of questioning was. “Uh, no. Just me.” 

“Well, Just Me, want to dance?” 

Jack did. Something about Brock was affecting him in a way he’d never been affected by someone other than Blue but his relationship with Blue was different -- was sacred. Would dancing defile that? Jack was conflicted; he wanted to dance and that was scary within itself. Would Blue be disappointed? Betrayed? Upset? 

“Sure.” 

It was a delirious feeling, a rush of nerves and anticipation that he hadn’t felt in public since he discovered Blue and their relationship blossomed. It felt wrong to think about Blue as he took Brock’s hand so he placed him in the back of his mind and allowed the man to lead him into the dancing crowd. The air was warm and smelled of cheap perfume, even cheaper cologne, and alcohol. Music pulsed through the floor, swelling around them as Brock turned and pressed his back flush to Jack’s front, grinding with the skill of someone well versed in dancing. Jack wasn’t and ended up standing there like an idiot until Brock took pity and took his hands, placing one on his waist and the other on his hip. The swell of his ass felt nice against his crotch and he found himself moving in his own beat to maintain the friction. The pheromones in the air had his head swimming. He was anchored in the moment, the only thing he could think about the feel of Brock against him, his warm skin under his hands. His eyes drifted shut and he exhaled heavily as the song wound down. 

Something slower came on and that translated into the slower rolls of Brock’s hips against his body. Slow and sensual it was everything that Jack had dreamed of having with Blue. He closed his eyes and he could picture it. Blue’s body pressed against him instead of Brock’s. Warm and flushed with arousal. Jack could feel himself hardening in his jeans and he was struck with momentary panic that was soothed by Brock centering his efforts on his cock. Blue would do that too, he thought. He’d feel his body responding and tease him, indulging his desires. The second song came to a close and Brock turned around to face him. The flush in his cheeks felt familiar and he felt like he’d seen the glimmer of excitement in his eyes before. 

“I need a drink, c’mon.” 

Brock took his head and led him off the dance floor back into the kitchen. A few girls were in there topping off their glasses with cheap vodka and cranberry juice before going back to the party. Jack just hoped his erection wasn’t too noticeable. Jack steeled his nerves with another shot of a whiskey and Brock pulled himself a generous cup of a moscato. He took a long drink and then looked at Jack. 

“Do you want to get out of here?” 

He did. He really did but… What would Blue think? That was certainly cheating and should he ever find out he wouldn’t forgive him. But… But it’d be a long time since Jack had hooked up with anyone, too singularly focused on Blue. Just once couldn’t hurt. 

“Yeah.” 

Brock chugged his wine and tossed it in an overfilled trash can where it clattered to the floor with the others that had been discarded after the bin was full. Jack copied the motion, relishing in the warm burn down his throat. Brock held out his hand and Jack took it. He was doing this. He really was going back to the place of a man he’d only just met. But in a way it didn’t feel like they’d just met. It felt like they’d known each for a long time, an instant connection that did nothing but double down the guilt he felt towards what he considered a betrayal of his and Blue’s relationship. 

The air outside was cold and it sobered him a bit, but not to a point that he felt any regret towards the upcoming evening. Brock chatted with him a bit as they waited for an Uber. Brock didn’t live on campus so they were heading to his apartment. He told him his favorite pastime (“Boxing. It’s grounding, keeps me focused and in shape.”) and how he didn’t usually do what they were about to do (“I don’t usually bring guys home but… I dunno but there’s something about you, Jack”). It was good to know that it wasn’t just Jack that was going out of his comfort zone. He pulled out his phone to shoot a text to Natasha that he had left the party. She was the most mature and wouldn’t make a big deal out of a hook up. 

Brock kissed him for the first time in the back of the Uber, hands roaming over Jack’s body, sliding up under his tee to paw at his skin. Jack found the spot on his neck that, when lightly nipped at, made Brock groan. They arrived at an upscale apartment building that caught Jack by surprise before he was distracted by Brock’s lips on his mouth , ams drawing him close. They managed to make it to the apartment and Jack managed to glimpse the decor before Brock was pushing his jacket off his shoulders and tugging the hem of his shirt up. Jack obediently lifted his arms allowing the shirt to be peeled off his body. Brock pressed him against the door, dropping to his knees to unfasten his jeans. 

The growl of the zipper being pulled down sent shivers down his spine; Brock pooling them around his ankles before he pulled down his underwear, sending his cock bobbing free. The precum that had accumulated on the tip cooled as the air hit it. Brock made a low lusty noise and took it in hand, spitting on it’s head before he swallowed it down with the skill of someone well versed in it. Jack rested his head against the door with a groan, eyes fluttering shut as Brock’s sucked him off. Brock’s throat muscles spasmed over his cock, his tongue stroking the underside of his dick. It was singlehandedly the best head he’d never received and he wanted to bask it in forever. Brock took his balls in hand, rolling them between his fingers. Jack’s mouth fell slack and looked down at the erotic sight below him. It was the prettiest picture he had ever seen, Brock’s head bobbing in a steady pace. 

It was nothing short of a crime that he wasn’t naked as well though and, with great effort, he said, “I want to see you.” 

Brock looked up through his lashes and Jack almost came from that sight alone. Brock pulled off his cock, shiny with spit and the head flushed near purple from how hard he was. He placed a single chaste kiss to the head of his cock a string of precum stretched from his slit to Brock’s lip as he rose from his knees with impressive grace. Jack took his time undressing him, trying to cool down he didn’t cum too soon and spoil what was looking up to a very good night. He was lifting his shirt off of him when the fabric caught the corner of his glasses.

They clattered against the hardwood floors and Brock stooped down to retrieve them. 

“Sorry,” Jack said immediately, well aware of the inflated costs of eyeglasses. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Brock tilted his head up and looked at him and Jack’s heart stopped. 

He knew those honey eyes, that jaw line, that face. “Blue?” he managed to choke out and Brock looked just as startled as Jack felt. 

“I -- ” Brock -- Blue? -- led off, stricken. 

Jack used to think how stupid it was that people couldn’t distinguish Superman from Clark Kent when the only difference was glasses but glasses had Blue’s identity hidden as well. Jack’s jaw was laxed and he had no idea what to think. This was something he had dreamed of, to see Blue in person rather than a screen. And now that he was he wished he could retreat to the safety of anonymity. Jack’s cock had softened a bit and Jack quickly tugged up his underwear suddenly feeling very vulnerable. Brock had dropped his eyes to the floor, hand tugging through his hair. 

“I’m sorry.” Jack wished he hadn’t said anything for both of their sakes. What had been lust had turned into exposure that neither of them were ready for. “I shouldn’t have said anything.” 

“You didn’t recognize me from the beginning?” Brock asked deadly. 

“What? No. I -- the glasses…” 

Brock looked down at them with a thin, stressed smile that didn’t meet his eyes. “I take it you’ve seen my shows.” 

“Seen them? It’s -- it’s me. Jack.” 

Brock’s eyes popped open. “Jack? As in Mathlete99 Jack?” 

“Yeah.” Increasingly embarrassed he looked down shamefully. “I… I’m sorry.” 

“Stop apologizing. I should have planned to be recognized eventually.” Brock scrubbed a hand over his face. “Well, this is one hell of a way to meet my favorite fan.” 

Jack’s chest swelled at the title; knowing he meant something to him was more important that Brock knew. “Thanks.” was all he could think to say and it was lame on his ears so he followed it up with, “I thought you went to NYU.” 

“Why?” Brock asked. 

“Your accent, it’s Brooklyn right? I figured Brooklyn accent, Brooklyn student.” 

Brock laughed a bit at that. It was still hollow, shutter-shook, still not quite believable, but there was a hint of real humor to it that said there may be a future to their conversation. Brock didn’t seem like he wanted to send him away and Jack took that as a win. 

“That would make sense, huh?” Brock looked at him. “I never thought we’d attend the same school, what are the chances of the two of us trying to hook up?” 

“A very low possibility.” Jack swallowed thickly. “Or maybe it’s fate.” 

“I suppose it must be, huh? It’s nice to meet you in person, though. I shoulda led with that. I’m just… Well, you know how caught off guard I am.” 

“I’m sorry,” Jack said instantly and Brock gave him a sharp look. “No apologizing. Right. Sorry. I mean…” 

“Just as polite in person as you are online, hm?” Brock took a deep breath. “Come on. Want a beer? I feel like a beer would fit this situation well.” 

Jack quickly tugged up his jeans and grabbed his shirt from the floor. “Sure.” 

The rest of the apartment was neat and well styled. He passed by a hallway where the door at the very end was cracked. He glimpsed a corner of the iconic blue comforter he’d come to recognize. Brock emerged from the kitchen with two dark bottles and gestured to the couch. It was a loveseat that would keep them close. Jack was embarrassingly eager. The shock was wearing down and giddiness was replacing his astonishment. He was seeing Blue in real life, something no other fan could claim. He’d gotten a blow job from Blue. He knew Blue’s real name. It gave him a headrush to think about how close he was to the man he’d been so enamored by. Brock sunk down on the opposite side of him and turned to face him. Their knees touched and somehow it felt more intimate than the head he’d received in the foyer of the apartment. He had a thousand questions and millions compliments he wanted Brock to know. He wanted him to know the profound effect he’d had on his life; how Jack had built his life around him but he was afraid of how it would sound. He needed to play it cool, remain composed like Brock was. 

Jack cracked the beer open and mist drifted into the air, fine and fragile like the situation Jack was currently in. He took a sip of the beer letting the cold liquid chase away the warmth of whiskey and arousal. He felt a bit more grounded as the taste of hops spread through his mouth. Brock mirrored the action and silence settled between them, suspending them both as they worked through their own disbelief by the turn of the evening. 

“I was always so curious about what you looked like.” Brock finally said. 

“Hopefully I didn’t disappoint.” 

Jack tried to chuckle to play it off a joke but deep down it was a real concern. He was aware that he was a bit lanky and about the scar on his face from a childhood car accident that made him look gruff and unapproachable. He didn’t think he was ugly but he considered himself to be extremely average and that didn’t pair with the perfection that was sitting to his left. 

“Not at all, which makes it all the more strange you never wanted to video chat. I was always so curious what your voice sounded like. Your username made me think that you were one of those ultra nerdy types. Suspenders and all that.” 

Jack spent a good portion of his classes surrounded by those who shared his major and while suspenders were certainly a stereotype there were certain characteristics that the ‘nerdy’ types had. He smiled and took another swing of beer as he tried to think of something witty to say when all he wanted to do was tell Brock how much he loved him which, he knew, was wildly inappropriate to say. 

“Not quite my style.” 

“I see that.” Brock swept an appreciative look at him like he had in the kitchen at the party. 

“It’s too bad our night got ruined.” Jack found himself saying and that mischievous that was so very Brock came into eyes. 

It was the same look he got when PrivateShows requested the more creative dildos. It struck Jack again that he was here, in the apartment of Blue -- who was really Brock -- just the way he had fantasized when he watched his streams. He wanted to touch him, to feel his skin under his fingers even more than he had in the thrall of passion they’d just been in. He ached for it, craved it, but he kept his hands safety wrapped around the bottle that he brought to his lips again to ground him in place. The last thing he wanted to do was to lose himself and do something foolish that could scare off Brock. 

“Who says it’s ruined? I mean, assuming you’re still interested,” Brock said, as though that was even a remote possibility. “It’ll be my first time hooking up with a fan. First time for everything, huh? I never thought I’d get the chance to shack up with you.” 

Shack up was such a tame phrase for what had been raw and sexual previously but in hindsight it was much more mature. No juvenile hurry to chase pleasure. Jack was determined to make a night of it, especially after hearing that Brock was still interested. He set the beer on the glass coffee table and cut the space between them, catching Brock’s jaw and drawing him in for a kiss. It was slow, the taste of sweet wine and a bitter beer was a perfect mixture on Jack’s tongue as he flicked it across his teeth. Jack started to draw back, determined to see Brock sprawled on that blue comforter he’d dreamt of, raw and open in the flesh. Brock followed his lips and when he pulled back his pupils were blown wide open and his lips were pink and swollen. Jack was already aching to kiss him again but he got himself into check; he wasn’t going to rush this, he was going to make it count. It wasn’t every day that he got to live out a dream, especially one he’d wanted from the beginning. 

Brock got to his feet first, offering a hand -- offering himself -- and Jack took it without a second of hesitation, both abandoning their drinks in favor of indulging in their newfound knowledge. Jack couldn’t believe that he had almost had sex with Brock without realizing who he was. It did absolve him of all guilt of cheating on Blue however. It made sense why he had seemed so familiar. The bedroom was roomier than he expected but the show had only shown as much as one webcam could; a mere crevice of Brock’s personal space. Jack was still suspended in disbelief when he stepped in a room that he had come to know virtually. The colors were more vibrant; high definition had nothing on reality but Jack had expected that much. He saw the stand of drawers beside the bed and he knew what laid inside of it. Plugs, vibrators, dilidos, cock rings -- a plethora of things Jack ached to use with Brock but not until he’d experienced what it was like to make slow careful love to him first. 

Brock set aside his glasses and grabbed the hem of Jack’s shirt. “Now we have to start over.” Brock said in what Jack recognized as faux frustration. 

He used that when a PrivateShow was coming to end but was too short for him to work himself up to orgasm, mostly to get the viewer to pay for another ten minutes. It never happened with Jack though, he would never short change him. It felt like a privilege to give money to him. How others didn’t feel the same way he didn’t understand, but he didn’t want to get too far into his own head when he was being blessed with the opportunity before him. He lifted off his shirt and then reached for Brock’s. It exposed his beautiful olive skin, sun-kissed and perfect. His stomach was made of ridges of muscle that tapered to a perfect V which vanished into the waistband of his well fitted jeans. He didn’t get a chance to reach for it, Brock moved quicker and tugged his jeans back down. Jack stepped out of them and went for Brock’s fly. He allowed it, hands roaming over his biceps as he lowered his jeans. He knelt in front of him, placing careful kisses down his body as he lowered down, ending with a kiss on his pubic bone. Brock was hard in his blue boxers, the outline of his cock prominent and mouthwatering. He mouthed it through the underwear and was rewarded with a lustful moan above him. 

Jack smiled against his length only to be urged up by Brock who wasted no time peeling his underwear down to expose his cock which had bounced back from it’s stunned softening earlier. He immediately swallowed it again and Jack grunted, resisting the urge to thrust against the back of his throat. He ran his fingers through Brock’s hair, fingers tangling in his locks, tightening a bit in pleasure as Brock’s tongue massaged the underside of his cock the way it had when they first entered the apartment. Brock pulled back with a wet slurp, eyes watering a bit from choking on his cock. It was wildly erotic and Jack wanted to fuck his mouth just as badly as he wanted to fuck his ass. The idea of cumming on Brock’s pretty face was almost as appealing as cumming inside him. It was enough to send precum drooling from his slit. He took himself in his fist and knelt down to return the gesture. 

His cock was smaller than Jack’s, a bit thicker but shorter. It fit in his mouth perfectful, soft velvety skin sheathing hard engorged muscle. Jack swirled in tongue around its mushroom head letting Brock’s moans fuel him and tell him what he was doing right. He hollowed his cheeks, pulling back with a wet pop when Brock tugged at his hair. He rose to his feet and back against the bed as Brock pressed gently on his chest, lips pressed to his. The comforter was every bit as soft and he imagined it was. Brock pushed him flat and crawled over his body, their cocks dragging across each other as he situated himself over Jack so that his cock was slotted between plump ass cheeks. Jack couldn’t help but thrust up a bit, chasing friction. Brock’s hands were resting on his pecs as he learned down to seize yet another kiss, nipping at his bottom lips as his hands dragging against his chest. Their breathing was heavy and thick, both unabashed at their arousal, seeking the same thing. 

“Are you clean?” Brock panted. 

“Yeah.” 

Brock groaned deeply and he straightened up, reaching behind, clearly trying to finger himself open. Jack rolled him over with gentle pressure that Brock embraced allowing them to swap positions. Lowering his body down he nudged Brock’s legs open and licked his hole with a wide sweep of his tongue, slowly loosening the muscle with copious amounts of saliva and prodding pressure. Brock’s soft lustful moans fueled him during such slow, intimate contact. The muscles in Brock’s legs tensed and relaxed under the skill of his tongue and once he was open and relaxed Jack reached for the lube in the top drawer of the stand. Brock laughed, a bit breathless. 

“Clearly you know your way around.” 

Had emotion not been running so high he would have been a bit bashful about his open knowledge but all he could do was grunt in agreement and poured a liberable amount on his fingers and his hole. Brock hissed a bit at the cool viscous liquid and Jack blew hot air over it to warm it a bit faster. He fingered him open, preparing him for his cock which he knew was a bit much for anyone. Once he could fit four fingers with minimal resistance he knew Brock was ready. He shifted upwards and hiked Brock’s legs over his hips. He didn’t even think to ask Brock if he was okay with having sex with eye contract but Brock didn’t object. Staring into the liquid pools of amber while he lined up was a dream come true. 

He took his time sinking into him, stroking his cock as he did so. Brock’s grunts were both pleased and in pain so Jack slowed down, allowing him to adjust before shifting a bit more inside of him. Slowly he worked his cock inside of him and paused, his length completely swallowed with tight warmth. He waited until Brock’s eyes fluttered open and he gave a nod. The thrusts were slowly and careful as he built Brock up, one hand around his cock, the other tweaking his nipples the way he always did to himself. Brock shuddered at the sensations and Jack felt confident in his choices. 

It was everything Jack had dreamt of and so, so much more. His breathing was ragged and uneven as he fought his orgasm with all he had until Brock whimpered and hot cum shot in ribbons against his chest, the milky liquid standing out starkly on his skin. The sight pushed him over the edge and his thrusts stuttered as he orgasmed. He thrusted hard as he came, grinding his teeth together as he let out a husky groan. Brock pulled him close, pressing their lips together as Jack came. When he was finally wrung out he carefully pulled out, reaching for the box of tissues beside the bed, wiping away the cum and lube that leaked from his pinky puffy hole before wiping Brock’s cum from his stomach. Brock’s breathing was heavy and loud as he came down from the high of his orgasm. Jack tossed the tissues on the floor and took Brock in his arms. 

Maybe it was him moving too fast but it felt like he’d known him for years now. They weren’t strangers, they knew each other. Brock rested his head on his chest and the two of them basked in the afterglow together. 

“That was amazing,” Brock said, finally breaking their silence. 

He had spent the last fifteen minutes drawing idle shapes over Jack’s heart. Maybe it was Jack reading too much into it but it felt personal, more personal than a random hook up. “It was,” Jack agreed. “I’ve thought about this for a long time.” 

Only after he said it did it sound a bit...creepy. Brock just laughed however. “I’d be concerned if you didn’t. You’re half the reason I can even afford to go to school. Are you trust fund baby?” 

Jack felt a swell of pride knowing that his money had made a difference in Brock’s life. That was all he had wanted after all. To help, to show him how much he loved him. “No, I work.” 

“Must be one hell of a job to be dropping the amount you do. You don’t have to, you know. I know what I just said sounds like -- ”

“I want to.” Jack cut in firmly. 

Brock sucked on his cheek and then smiled. “Well thank you. So, what now Jack?” Jack wasn’t certain if he was overstaying his welcome and moved to sit up. “You don’t have to leave. I mean, if you want to you can. But if you don't, maybe I can make us something to eat? I’m a lousy cook but I’m sure even my crappiest cooking is better than the mess hall food.” 

Jack couldn’t argue with that reasoning and he was ecstatic that Brock didn’t want him to leave. “I could eat.” 

Brock smiled, wide and perfect, and he got off the bed, stretching. Jack admired the long lines of his body before he sat up, the haziness of post-orgasm wearing off. Brock grabbed a blue robe hanging up on a hook and Jack got an inkling why his username was BigBoyBlue. It seemed to be his favorite color which made sense seeing how it complimented his skin tone. Jack followed him down the hallway, through the living room and into the kitchen. There was a pub table against the wall with two tall chairs. It was clean and tidy like the rest of the apartment. Brock rummaged around the fridge and produced a Pyrex dish of what looked like steak. He moved with purpose, clearly comfortable with cooking. He put rice on to boil and poured the steak into the frying pan. In fifteen short minutes Jack had a steaming plate of steak and rice. It was every bit as good as it looked and Brock and him spoke easily between bites. They talked about his classes, his friends, and his major. Perhaps Jack was reading too much into it but it felt a lot like a first date. 

The clock read almost one am when the dishes were done. Brock was telling him about his ambitious friend who was hellbent on starting up a technology business, triple majoring in engineering, robotics, and business. “And here I am all frazzled over some cam show.” 

“Do they know?” 

“Tony? Oh yeah. He loves to give me shit about it.” Brock smiled fondly. “What about you? Do your friends know you’re such a big fan of mine?” 

Jack’s alarm must have shown through because Brock laughed. “I’ll take that as a no,” he said, gathering their now warm beers, pouring them down the drain before rinsing them and setting them in the recycling bin. “I never thought I’d be a camboy but the money was too good to pass up. I’ve gained a pretty good following. I almost considered dropping out of school and going full time. But I won’t stay young and hot forever so I might as well have a back-up, you know?” 

Jack nodded although he didn’t think Brock could ever stop being hot. “It’s always good to have a back-up plan.” 

“Exactly.” They settled on the couch. “Hey, do you want to spend the night? Breakfast just happens to be my speciality and it would be a shame not to get to show off.” 

Jack had an early shift at McDonalds but he could call out. He’d never taken a sick day. Missing just one wouldn’t hurt any, especially with the chance to spend time with Brock was presented before him. 

“I’d really like that.” 

Brock smiled. “Me too.” 

** ** ** **

Introducing Brock to his friends was something he worried about. He didn’t have a good origin story for their relationship after all. Natasha had scrutinized him when he first introduced himself, subjecting to a round of rapid fire questions to assure he was pure in intention and to guage his sense of morality. Clint was far more easy going, won over the second that Brock selected pepperoni pizza for lunch. Bucky was stand-offish, as he usual was, but he smiled and said polite hellos. Steve was the most accommodating, welcoming him to the table and asking about his major. It wasn’t until after Brock had left to go to class did Natasha proclaim him worthy of Jack’s attention. 

“And here I was thinking you were going to be celibate forever.” Clint announced looking absolutely delighted. 

“Ugh, I don’t need to hear about Jack’s sex life.” Bucky said with a wrinkled nose. “I mean, he seems nice though, Jack. Good for you.” 

Jack had been taken aback when Brock first suggested the idea of them giving what they had together a title but he was happy to have a label for his feelings. Brock Rumlow, BigBoyBlue69, was his boyfriend. It seemed like a crazy turn of fate for him to have gotten so very lucky. Jack didn’t mind his streaming in the slightest -- Brock was his, he didn’t mind having others covet what he had. Plus he had no right to ask Brock to stop. 

Meeting Brock’s friends was slightly less eventful. Tony, an eccentric man who talked a mile a minute, Bruce, a small man who hardly said two words to him, and a woman, Virgina (she preferred to go by Pepper), who hardly seemed to fit in with the rest of the gang. Brock informed him that she had an on again off again relationship with Tony. 

It was just a start to their relationship but it was enough for Jack. There was no telling how their future would pan out but Jack had a good feeling about it. With Brock anything and everything was possible.


End file.
